


Leather Pants

by bleeeeeeep



Category: Suits (TV)
Genre: Bottom!Harvey, M/M, Riding, Switching, Top!Harvey, Top!Mike - Freeform, bottom!Mike, leather pants
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-23
Updated: 2015-07-23
Packaged: 2018-04-10 20:35:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,766
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4406624
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bleeeeeeep/pseuds/bleeeeeeep
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mike needs to get laid.  Badly.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Leather Pants

**Author's Note:**

> Just for giggles. Don't hate me?

It’s been – actually, no.  He does not want to even think about the number.  (Too fucking late.)  Saying it out loud will be even worse.  It has been way too long since he’s gotten laid.  This job has taken up nearly all of his free time and if it’s the last fucking thing (pun intended) he does on this wonderful Friday night in the middle of June, his dick is going to find it’s way up some pretty little ass that’s just begging for it.

Mike knows his suits are not the nicest ones somebody on his salary can buy, but he’ll be damned if the clothes he goes _hunting_ in are anything less than subpar.  Doesn’t hurt to have something backing up the charm, right?  Aw god, if he’s thinking like this, it’s past “too long” and nearing the “I’m almost a virgin again” stage.

Enough pondering bullshit.  He allows himself to a quick jerk-off before getting dressed.  Climaxing embarrassingly fast was not an option. After a bit of clean up, he tugs on a pair of black leather pants (shut up, Jenny bought them for him as a joke and they’re actually loose enough to be comfortable) and a soft black t-shirt. Black and white high tops, of course.  He would feel naked without them.  The rest of his outfit looks like it’s practically been glued on.  Just his phone, a bit of cash, keys, and out the door, he goes.

He ducks into one of the clubs he used to frequent when Trevor and Jenny were still part of his life. Third wheeling with them all the time was not an option.  Certainly not healthy. 

There’s more men than women there, which is good.  Women haven’t been as appealing to him lately.  Not after Rachel.  Or after staying with Harvey.  It should be illegal for him to walk around in only a towel.  He licks his lips unconsciously at the thought.

Oh lovely, he’s caught the attention of somebody across the room.  A tall, dark-haired, blue-eyed, very, very handsome somebody.  As he’s making his way over to simply talk for a bit, _speak_ of the fucking devil.  The unmistakable buzz of his phone insists that the text is from Harvey.

 

 _‘_ _Be at my apartment in 20_ _’_ it reads.

 

He has the bartender send Blue Eyes a drink and a note with his number.  Risky move considering they haven’t spoken yet, but chances are meant to be taken.  Mike seals the deal by shooting him a wink as he turns to leave.

Obviously, he gets there five minutes early – annoyed and still horribly in need of sex.  When the door finally opens after some really persistent knocking, he’s already contemplated pushing his boss up against the wall and leaving hickeys _everywhere_ no less than ten times.  “What was so urgent that I couldn’t enjoy my Friday?” he demands.

Harvey, being Harvey, smirks at his chosen attire.    “I just wanted to see whether or not you’d drop everything to get here when I said.  Thank you for proving me right.  Nice pants, Rookie.”

 _You_ _’_ _re one to talk.  Answering the door in nothing but a pair of jeans._ Mike practically snarls before inviting himself in and doing what he was planning to do while he was waiting for the door to open.  That’s right.  Mike jumps Harvey.  Not the other way around.  Puppies can be aggressive, you know.

When they part, it’s only to breathe.  Let’s face it, claiming sexual harassment – when one is panting and flushed the way Harvey is - is out of the question.

“Man, am I glad I did that experiment.” He’s got this twinkle in his eye that makes Mike want to fuck him twelve ways to Sunday.  Showing his boss this desire seems much better than making a mental list of positions.

“Show me how glad.” He already knows where the bedroom is.  He’s sure he wouldn’t be the first to enjoy a thread count that may or may not be higher than the amount he pays for rent, but making Harvey beg on his own territory – come on, who could resist that?

Harvey would never say it out loud (because dignity is still important,) but there’s a hitch in his breath as he watches this naughty puppy walk away.  He’s even got the nerve to shoot a wink when he turns back.  Fuck, do those hips know how to sway.

Wait. What is he even standing here for? There’s an incredibly sexy blond man in his room waiting for sex. Running was not an option, but strolling quickly was.

“I was wondering how long you were going to keep me waiting.”  Pressed against the wall for the second time tonight, Harvey finds himself wondering if Mike had worn such scandalous trousers because he was anticipating a call telling him to rush over.  The answer no longer matters when soft lips are mashed delightfully against his own.

“God.  Where did you learn to kiss like this?” _I could come in my pants if you keep it up._ He’s not unwilling to admit to what he likes.

“Would you rather get the answer or get fucked into the mattress?”  _Please say you_ _’_ _d rather get fucked into the mattress._ A hand unbuttoning his leathers provides the answer better than any words ever could.  Mike decides to be helpful by pulling his shirt over his head. It ruffles his hair up even more. He knows he looks just fucked before any fucking has even been done.

They turn to stumble towards the bed. Harvey lands first. As reality slaps him across the face, he is reminded that it’s been ages since anybody’s actually topped with him and done a good job of it.  The look on Mike’s face settles his nerves though. Not even his favorite suit makes him feel this sexy.  This wanted.

Words are unnecessary at this phase of the evening.  Mike crawls on the bed like a hunter observing his prey.  His trousers are slowly slipping off his hips, revealing navy blue boxers.  He would’ve forgone the underwear, but leather chafes.  His socks and shoes got lost between the bedroom door and the bed.

Denim clad legs fall open a little wider, welcoming Mike’s lithe torso between them.  Swollen lips call his name.  Not literally though.  He just wants to bruise and bite them a little more. Maybe a lot more. So, he does.

Neither of them know whose moans or whimpers are making their hearts pound anymore.  Blue Eyes isn’t even on Mike’s mind anymore.

The next thing they know, all of their clothes have gone flying and both of them are on a hunt for condoms and lube.

“Ugh,” Mike groans.  “How do you not have this stuff in your bedroom?”

“How do you not have this in your wallet when you went out to get laid tonight?”  Deflection.

“I was going to bring him back to my place or go to his!”  Goddamnit.

“How do you feel about Vaseline?” _Please, please, please do not object._

“Pass me the damn jar.  Spread your legs and start yourself off.  Slowly.” Mike likes being demanding once in a while.

Harvey gladly obeys.  Pigs must be flying.  Mike watches his index finger slide in and out. It’s kind of hypnotizing, but he pulls his eyes away to look up.  The way Harvey’s biting his lip makes him think that begging is not on the plate tonight.

He works a coated digit in next to Harvey’s, moving in sync.  With a crook of his finger, he draws the most delightful moan.  It’s music.  Really sexy music.

“Now.  Michael.” _Or sometime soon, before I tie you to the bed and ride you._

“I thought you’d never ask.”

“I’m not asking.”

A response is unnecessary. Just legs over his shoulders, a Vaseline-slicked cock, and a smooth thrust.

“Oh god. Oh god. Oh god.”

“The last time I checked, my name is Harvey, but okay.”

He doesn’t need words to shut his boss up. Actions speak louder, right?

Heat welcomes him and his hip motions. Slide in, roll, slide out. Thrust.  It makes Harvey clench.  Fuck, that feels good.  He doesn’t even know when an orgasm hits him like lightning.  Hot liquid fills the pretty pink hole encased around his cock.

It’s impossible to differentiate between which moans are coming from Harvey and which are coming from Mike. When Mike pulls out, he notices that Harvey hasn't come yet.  He still looks pleased as punch.  It gives Mike an idea.

“I want to help, but you have to lie down flat and close your eyes until I say so.”

Harvey’s too excited to ask questions. There are too many possibilities. He finds his hands tied above his head. Then, he hears the bathroom door close and temptation is something awful, but obedience gets rewarded.

What Harvey doesn’t know is that Mike took the jar of makeshift lubricant into the bathroom with him.  If he had stayed in bed, the noise would be too conspicuous.  He stares into the mirror as he reaches behind himself.  Oh, god, it’s been too long. The burn hurts, but it’s good.  It’ll feel even better when he sits on that dick. 

He’s lacking in patience and he doesn’t want Harvey to fall asleep.  However, it seems pretty hard to sleep when you’re _that_ hard.  He leaves anyway.

“Took you long enough,” Harvey mumbles.

Mike says nothing.  He just kneels beside his boss and strokes the cock he’s about to sit on, just in case.  The trick is to straddle those hips and intentionally impale himself before Harvey even has time to open his eyes.

Just like riding a bike, but better.

“Fuck, Mike.  Fuck.”

“That’s what you’re supposed to be doing to me.”  He presses his palms flat on lovely tanned abs, and slides up a little.  A gasp escapes as the tip hits _the spot._

Mike sits back down and tightens the muscles around Harvey before rocking forward.  The feeling could be described as indescribable, but that would still be a description.  It just feels really _fucking_ good. (Pun intended.)

There’s more rocking and rolling of hips and some sliding up and down.  Then, Mike feels a burst of heat inside of him.  The knowledge of success makes him paint Harvey’s glistening chest white.

But now, there’s a problem.

Before he gets off of Harvey, a question must be answered.

“Since we’re both fucked out like this, who’s going to make breakfast in the morning?”

“The diner, rookie.”

Okay.  He can sleep now.  Leather pants did their job.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you liked this!


End file.
